The day she stopped searching
by Tanuki56
Summary: Kuroko Shirai's struggle in finding out what she really wants and needs.


_AN: This is only the introduction to the story, it's not the actual chapter one, thus it is pretty short. This story will revolve around Kuroko for the most part and I plan to take a more natural approach in conveying the story. Please pardon any mistakes of mine and constructive criticism is welcomed. Thank you and I hope you will enjoy reading :D _

* * *

The rain fell down like bombs and she stands there, her body shaking.

Her tears, they do not know where to go. They stumble carelessly down the creases in her skin, ran thicker than the falling rain and seeped through her clothing, a burdening weight. An umbrella sits beside her, long forgotten, and she stares at the figure as it continued to grow smaller. Her hands trembled from the touch that still lingered and she clenched them into tight fists, bringing her arms slowly across her waist.

In an instant her world broke, fell and died like the smoke from an extinguished flame and she realized how tired she felt, to the point where Kuroko crumpled, bent over and struggled to breathe.

* * *

**There always comes a moment in everyone's lives when they finally realize something so important, like the bright glare of the sun in their faces. It is a clarity achieved only through sacrifices and struggles.**

**And, here is a fact or two:**

**Kuroko has two of such moments.**

**And, each time she scrambled to pick up the pieces of her broken heart from the ground and left behind a trail of tears.**

* * *

Kuroko never really understood the concept of 'falling in love' but she worked hard at pretending that she did. She would watch the girls in her class swoon over men in flimsy magazines and probe her heart for some sort of mutual understanding.

All she ever found where questions thrown back her way.

In fact, questioning her own normality had wiggled its way into her daily routine. On really bad nights, it would swing back like a hammer and knock Kuroko out of her slumber with painful dreams. And, she would find herself lying in the darkness, staring up at the fading images on the ceiling with the questions spreading out like the sky in her bedroom.

A void in her heart carried on to eat at her like a plague.

Kuroko was strong and she struggled through her own battles with a resolve made of stone. And yet, she was fragile and grew up building a fort of believable lies in order to protect herself. But most importantly, Kuroko was a prideful girl and accepting the fact that she was different came in the form of a crushing grip. She was drowning, and drowning so deeply in this ocean of hers that she didn't know if she'll ever reach the surface anymore.

She wasn't sure if she'll ever reach rock bottom as well.

* * *

In her dreams, it rained and with her knees dug into the wet ground, she'd picture herself raking through the soft earth and frowning at the dirt in between her fingers. She'd bring her hands up occasionally and stare at the soil in her shaking hands before bending down to dig again. Every thought and emotion blended together, weaved through each other and poured down as the rain all around her.

The rain fell like bombs and in some of her dreams she'd see herself standing there, her body trembling. Her hands would be clean, but her fingers broken. And she'd hear her own cries and wails and shouts and screams and -

The forming puddles gave her a glimpse of the sky but she finds herself stepping into them and watching the reflection distort before her eyes and she recognised that feeling, this uprising tide of fear. She did not understand.

Was it seeing herself in the puddles that made her shiver? Or the pregnant expectations that hung heavily in the air with each raking action against the soft earth that strained her countenance?

In her dreams, the rain always fell like bombs and that was all she'd ever remember listening to.

Understanding became a chore.

She'd wonder if one day she'd find herself staring back at her own reflection in the forming puddles, the less empty fistfuls of dirt in her palms and find herself standing in the lightening rain. One thing remained clear, that day would be the day when the rain would stop falling like bombs and perhaps like feathers instead, each drip soft and reassuring.

And maybe, just maybe, that'd be the day she'd finally stop searching.


End file.
